’ She just giggled in response and Martin watched her close her eyes as his massaging of her breasts began to seriously arouse her. ‘So Deb, you w...re saying about Martin being a naughty boy and watching you piss.’ ‘Pee, John … I prefer the word pee.’ ‘Okay Deb, so he watched you. How did it happen? How would Martin be in a position to watch you pee?’ ‘I was busting in the car on the way home and then when I got home, I ran into Martin waiting outside. I invited him in because he said he just. Her father worked on the land, a reserved occupation, so he was never away from home like so many other children's fathers who were called up to serve in the Armed Forces. And living in the countryside, where although food was rationed it was still plentiful, she was relatively safe and well-nourished. But for some reason, the grass is always greener, as the familiar adage goes, and while she was growing up in rural Cornwall, her juvenile thoughts often turned to the far off and mysterious land. Most of the time I just heard mocking comments from him and his pack of ass-kissers. I ignored them. Because, my only goal was to get out of that town.My folks wallowed in routine. My dad worked in a dairy. He was a manager, not a milkman. He loved his job and he wanted every minute of every day to be just like the one before it. My mother was a creature of habit too. She did things exactly the same way from time immemorial. If I saw mom doing the laundry, I didn’t need to look at my watch. I. Wanking off to some porn.Sure, I longed for more, but in my life that sort of thing never tended to happen. It wasn't that I was unpopular, just not what the girls would have called "shagable"As the video got hotter my strokes became faster. I could feel the sperm building up, just waiting to explode out of me. But before I had a chance. The doorbell rang.'Fuck!' I screamed. I closed the video down and pulled my trousers up. In a normal situation I wouldn't have bothered but my dad was waiting.
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